Plot Bunny Attacks!
by Element Phoenix Akira
Summary: Various crossovers and ideas. Most will be Harry centric. Unbeta-d. Chapter 1: HPxDN, Harry is tired, completely and utterly tired. With the thought of reuniting with his family on his mind, he goes through the veil. But things don't go as plan. Chapter 2: HPxMI Helen Potter is dead – too bad she didn't stay dead. Enter Clary Fray.
1. HP - DN

**Harry Potter/Death Note Crossover**

**Plot/Idea: Harry is tired, completely and utterly tired. With the thought of reuniting with his family on his mind, he goes through the veil. But things don't go as plan. **

**XXXX**

Standing in the huge, rectangular shaped room, Harry couldn't deny that he was nervous, scared even. He couldn't help but acknowledge it as he hears the harsh beating of his heart. But just like always he hurried and pushed it aside in the back of his mind. A hero cannot be control by fear instead a hero must overcome it, he reminded himself briefly.

If anything the Death Chamber hasn't changed at all, it was still empty except for the ever-still standing archway with its tattered black curtain fluttering and swaying slightly as if touched by a non-existent breeze. The same embracing voices that once lured him and Luna urged him again whispering silently in his ear, like butterfly kisses.

With a pounding heart, he step up the few steps to the platform and stood there gazing at the tattered covers. With frighten eyes Harry walked forward to the veil and the low echoes which run through the room grew louder. Drawing him in like a siren call.

Running a hand through his shaggy jet black hair, he shook his head slightly. What was he doing he asked himself? He's been planning this for months and now he was letting something trivia like fear stop him. Stop him from reuniting with his family? No, he thought, nothing was going to stop him.

With a mocking smirk on his lips, he ran quickly passing the tattered cloth with caressed his already goose bumped skin. Then almost immediately as he went through everything went black. Hands, millions of skeleton like hands grab him from the arms, legs, chest, everywhere it could reach, holding him down. As Harry choked, sputtered unseeing in the endless black as everything, everything that he was – _everything_ that was Harry was showed to him. Ripped away piece by piece, forcing him to watch every one of his memories painful or not as if being under legilimency spell and he could do nothing to fight it.

With a resigned sigh – after all he _did_ come he to die – he stopped trying to fight, ready to let death claim him with closed eyes.

Then he was falling. The boney hands letting him go, chuckling.

"Arseholes!" He splattered out as he fell.

Why couldn't they just give him a quick death?

**XXXXXX**

Opening his eyes, Harry was blinded by white and he couldn't help but think, is this heaven? Willing his eyes to focus, he was displease to see what was what he thought as his sanctuary was just the palest color ceiling he had ever seen. Narrowing his eyes as he tried to get up, he quickly notice the white walls and polish tiled floors, combine with that freaky white ceiling. He was in a hospital, he concluded unhappily. He despised hospitals, considering that half his life was spent in one.

And besides that, where was he? Was this something the veil did, for its own amusement? A shocked gasped woke him from his musing and he looked up, staring in the caramel eyes of a young girl. Opening his mouth to speak the girl hurried and rushed out screaming "He's awake! He's awake! Mom! Dad! Come!"

Confused eyes blinked. What was all that about?

Wiggly free from his white covers (Why were they so tight?) he sighed and waited.

Another gasped went through the room and he glance at the door. A kind middle age woman looked at him with teary wide-eyes as a strong, stern looking man held her tightly. Had to be her husband Harry thought silently. Looking behind them, Harry turned his gaze to what had to be there two children, a teenage boy who in his opinion could be the poster boy of perfection and young energetic looking girl.

Looking at their panic filled eyes, he wondered what could have caused that. Surely, they weren't scared for him? He didn't even know them.

"Yagami Yoru? I'm Dr. Yamamoto. Are you alright? You were in a coma for two weeks." A female doctor asked him waking in the door with a clipboard and pen. "Any pain?"

Harry looked at her then at the family. "Who?"

The mother broke into sobs as her husband stare at him in shock. "What's wrong with him?" He growled.

The doctor looked at him with pity filled eyes. "I'm afraid you son has a case of amnesia."


	2. HP - Mortal Instruments

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Harry Potter_ or _The Mortal Instruments_.

**Summary:** Helen Potter is dead – too bad she didn't stay dead. Enter Clary Fray.

**XXXXXX**

**Prologue: **

A horrible drawing sensation settled in the pit of Helen stomach. The woman – who sadly reminded her of her dead mother Lily Potter – stared at her with tired green eyes. Her long, curly, red hair which had been pulled back in a messy bun was now plastered to her face by a thin sheen of sweat that covered her brow and face. She looked terrible but somewhat glowing.

Quickly summarizing everything – the doctors, the woman, the screaming all came down to one thing.

She was reincarnated.

Never before in her life did she ever want to burst into wails. Never, not even when the people who were close to her dead. She have sobbed but never wailed like a child.

She was reincarnated. Death – that son of a bitch – had grabbed her soul, _his _master _soul _and suck it into the vessel of someone child, this woman child. The child, whom she had carried for nine months, probably reading all the maternity books, dealing with the morning sickness, cravings and muscle cramps and just looking into her eyes, Helen couldn't help but feel guilty, she already loved her baby.

She held back a sob. She stolen this woman baby, had taken its body. Now instead of her loving newborn child this woman had gained her. A fully-grown woman who had lived her life and now just wanted to die and wait for the rest of her family.

Helen, as a fellow mother too three, could only cry in shame. What have she done?

She could only hope that when this woman passed on and discovered her trickery she could be forgiven. But for now, Helen decided, she would not take this woman family from her. She would pretend to be her daughter, her beloved child.

Despites the circumstances a frightening thought plagued her mind. Was Helen _even_ a girl?

"Her she is Jocelyn, here's your daughter." A nurse called out giving the pink bundle Helen to the tired, smiling woman.

_Ah, _yes, she was. Thank Merlin.

**XXXXXX**

**Five and a half years later **

Helen – no Clarissa Fray – watched her mother now known as Jocelyn paint with intense eyes. She couldn't help it, each stroke of the brush, the way her new mother skillfully made something as simply a line into _such_ a work of art caught her attention. Like a fly to a bright light.

The ring of the doorbell knocked her from her musing.

Getting up from her place on the floor, Helen stepped up and walked toward the door quietly as to not disturb her mother from her work – she gets too caught in her work as well – to answer it. Hopefully she wouldn't get too worked up with it; Jocelyn was known to fear often. Especially about her daughter. She couldn't help but wonder what secrets her new mother was hiding for her to fear so much.

With small, tiny hands – Helen glared at them – she unlocked the door, opening it revealing a handsome man around her mother age with kind blue eyes behind golden-rimmed spectacles. He looked very shock to see her.

Helen looked surprised to see him too. Why did she get the feeling she was looking at her dead uncle, Remus Lupin?

A frighten voice run through the apartment. "Clary where are you! What have I said –"

Jocelyn stared at the figure behind her daughter in shock, her shouting interrupted.

She opened her mouth but the mysterious man already beat her to it.

"Hello, Jocelyn" He smiled grimly. She stood still, silently.

Helen watch the reunion, wondering. Yes, her mother was hiding secrets. Big ones.

**XXXXXX **

**So, what ya think? Interested? Tell me any mistakes, please. **


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